


Count The Years

by LittlePlumTree



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 01:57:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1451149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittlePlumTree/pseuds/LittlePlumTree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Looking back, Remus finds it strange that there was a time when they didn't know each other. It feels like forever ago, at any rate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Count The Years

They’re eleven years old on their first day of school, and the Great Hall is huge, gigantic even, to the four of them, standing side by side in front of the worn, old hat perched on its stool. They don’t know each other yet. Looking back, Remus finds it strange that there was a time when they didn’t know each other. It feels like forever ago, at any rate.

 

They’re all twelve on the night before James’ thirteenth birthday, and the common room feels like the safest and most comfortable place in the world. Remus is holding a book open but not really reading, and Peter is idly shuffling a pack of playing cards back and forth in his hands. James is a ball of energy, pent up and fidgety, and Sirius is enjoying the game of counting the seconds James can go without mentioning it’s his birthday in, let’s see, 3 hours and 14 minutes. His record so far is 18 minutes, right at the start of the night. When the clock ticks over, all four of them are there, Remus’ book discarded and Peter’s playing cards left in a neat stack on the table, and they fling themselves at James with shouted wishes of “Happy Birthday” and a “You’re getting old, James!” from Sirius. Their arms go around James simultaneously, all four boys a tangle of arms and bodies, and Sirius hopes they’ll remember this moment forever. 

 

They’re thirteen when Halloween rolls around for the third time at Hogwarts. The halls are covered in orange and black, and seem constantly crowded with students. More so than usual, anyway. Sirius looks up from breakfast one morning to see Remus walk in with James, and he stops chewing and just stares, because when did Remus get so tall? He’s sure he hadn’t been the same height as James last time he looked. Realising he’s staring he quickly finishes his mouthful and tries to act casual, but finds it is very hard to look normal when you are trying to act it. Remus gives him a confused smile as he sits down, and Sirius is mortified to find himself going red. Why is he going red? It’s just Remus. He hastily shoves a basket of bread across the table at the subject of his confusion and takes a long drink out of his goblet, and tries to think about things that aren’t Remus. 

 

They’re fourteen when Remus wakes up from a nightmare to find he is not alone. Sirius is sitting on the end of his bed, face creased and eyes wide, biting his lip and a hand outstretched as if reaching out for Remus. His face relaxes visibly as Remus sits bolt upright, sweating and breathing hard. “Bad dream?” Sirius tries to act casual and quickly draws back his hand. Still breathing hard and rubbing a hand across his face, Remus gives him a wry smile. “No, it was a nice dream, I’m sweating and breathing like I just ran a marathon ‘cause I thought it’d be a laugh.” Sirius manages a snort of laughter, and then after a pause says, “What’s a marathon?” Remus just shakes his head and smiles. Purebloods. Sirius looks down, going red, which Remus has noticed him doing a lot lately now that he thinks about it, and then back up at Remus with a tentative expression. “Do you… want me to stay for a bit? Or are you okay now?”  
Remus thinks for a second and then replies, “No, stay. Please.” And when Sirius crawls across the bed and slips in beside him, Remus can feel that he’s trembling. “Sirius? You’re shaking.”

“You scared me, is all. I don’t like it when you have nightmares.”

And Remus leans his head against Sirius’ shoulder, snuggling down under the covers, and replies, “I promise I won’t have any more tonight.” 

And he doesn’t.

 

They're fifteen and finally, after 3 years of practice, the group minus one stands in a circle in an empty classroom and look at each other. A stag, a rat, and a big black dog. When James first suggested becoming Animagi, Sirius was both delighted with the idea and mad at himself for not thinking of it first. He had wanted to be the one to come up with an idea to help Remus. But James had looked at him expectantly and Peter was wide-eyed and excited, and Sirius quickly pasted on a smile. "That, James, is a brilliant idea." And so they did it. They worked hour after hour after hour, and then more after that, and finally here they stand. If dogs can grin, this one is. Sirius knows this is the ultimate gift they can give Remus. The gift of ensuring his safety every month, ensuring he lives, as comfortably as possible, to see the next full moon when they'll do it all again. And Sirius has long since given up on kidding himself that he is only so determined to do this because Remus is a friend. He's long since given up thinking of Remus as just a friend.

They’re sixteen and Sirius has made a terrible mistake. Sirius has made a lot of mistakes in his lifetime, but he is still paying for this one. He thinks to himself how ironic it is that one moment can define the rest of your life, can ruin relationships, friendships, even end lives. He shudders a little at the thought. He honestly hadn’t meant for anyone to get hurt. When he directed Snape down the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack he’d only meant it as a joke, something they’d all laugh about later. Why didn’t I stop and think? Sirius berated himself. Why do I always act without thinking things through? It was only Snivellus, and James had stopped him just in time, but Remus… he’d revealed Moony’s secret. And he didn’t know if Remus would ever forgive him for that.

This is where the story really begins, with four boys in an otherwise empty common room on a snowy night at the end of January. 

Sirius is sprawled in an armchair, feet sticking out over one chair-arm and head thrown back over the other. The thing about Sirius, Remus thinks, is that he is everywhere at once and taking up as much space as possible. As if to prove this theory, Sirius springs up from the chair with no prior indication of doing so and crosses the room at a gait somewhere between a run and a sock-slide. He grabs up three books from the bookcase and returns to his seat in the same fashion. This time he sits cross-legged and proceeds to balance one of the books on his head. After a few attempts, the book stays, and Sirius adds another. This one stays on the first attempt, but as he adds a third, the pile comes crashing down over the arm of the chair onto the floor. Remus wants to laugh, but he can’t. He’s still mad at Sirius.

James and Peter are currently at war over a chess board in the corner of the room, and James is chastising his knight for not being violent enough in the slaughter of Peter’s bishop. Peter is sulking because he’s losing. In the middle of it all, Remus feels somewhat out of place, and he can’t quite put his finger on why. He looks back down at the top of the table, the same one he’s been studying closely all evening, trying to get a hold on his thoughts. It isn’t working. 

With a loud sigh Remus heaves himself up from the table and makes for the door. “I’m off to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Sirius’ head jerks upwards, dislodging the two books successfully balanced there and they tumble to the floor unnoticed. Remus avoids his gaze and instead smiles at Peter and James as he turns to open the door. He hears the sound of someone getting up and groans inwardly.

“I’m feeling a bit tired too, think I’ll go with you.” Sirius offers, never one for subtlety, and makes his way across the room. Remus says nothing but holds the door open for Sirius as he walks through. They make their way up the stairs in silence and into the dorm shared by the four of them, and Sirius runs a hand through his hair and leans against the doorframe.

“Long day, aye Moony?” Sirius’ obvious attempt at conversation falls flat as Remus blatantly ignores him, crossing to the other side of the room and starting to go through the motions of getting ready for bed. 

“Moony?” Sirius tries again, use of the nickname sounding a little strained. “Remus? Nothing?” Still Remus ignores him. “Oh come on, you can’t stay mad forever.”

Something about this sentence makes Remus’ resolve snap. Why shouldn’t he stay mad forever? What Sirius did was reckless and stupid, and could have got Snape killed. It was bad enough that he should reveal Remus’ secret at all, but to put someone, it doesn’t matter who, at risk just for a laugh? Sirius had gone too far this time.

Remus doesn’t even remember it happening. He’d already transformed into the wolf by then. It was Sirius who’d found Snape nosing about the Womping Willow and sent him down the passage. If it wasn’t for James, Snape could be dead. Didn’t Sirius get that?

“Why not, Sirius? Why shouldn’t I? Do I not deserve to be at least a little angry? Someone could have got hurt, Sirius! I could have killed someone! I could be a murderer!”

Sirius pushes himself off the doorframe, his face surprised, as if he hadn’t expected anything like that to come out of Remus’ mouth. To be honest, neither had Remus. 

“Yeah, but you’re not. You’re not a murderer, no-one got hurt.”

“But I could be! Snape could have been!” Remus is yelling now, his anger finally surging out after half a week of build-up. 

“Calm down! Anyway, you can’t stay mad at me forever. Yell at me, fine, but stop ignoring me. It’s doing my head in.”

“Oh, and everything’s about you isn’t it, Sirius? Always is.” 

With a sneer, Sirius replies, “Sometimes, yeah, it is! I know I fucked up, Remus, but doesn’t everyone?”

“Not like that, Sirius. Not like that.” 

“You’re making way too big a deal out of this. It’s done, everyone’s fine, can we move on?”

“Too big a deal!? Your stupid mistake could have ruined my life! Don’t you get that, Sirius?”

Sirius just sneers and rolls his eyes, and he doesn’t even need to say it for Remus to interpret his unsaid taunt of “drama queen…”

Remus just stares at him for a moment. He knows if he opens his mouth again, he’ll regret it. But like most things you know you’ll regret, he does it anyway.

“You know, you say running away from home, away from your parents, was the best thing you ever did. You got away from their arrogance and their ideals and their snobbery. You go around pretending you’re so different, like you’ll never become like them. But thing is, Sirius, you already are. You’re just like them.”

Sirius tenses for a moment, his hands clenched at his sides, face passive. He slowly tilts his chin upwards, meeting Remus’ gaze, and then shoves his hands in his pockets and walks silently from the room. Remus is left standing alone by his bed, stomach flipping and head spinning, and somehow he knows that, out of anything he could possibly said, he really shouldn’t have said that.

 

For the next few days, Sirius avoids Remus like the plague. From his vantage point on the other side of the common room, Remus watches Sirius as he talks with James, or flirts shamelessly with the girls, or beats Peter in Wizard’s Chess. Whenever he approaches, Sirius doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s actively avoiding him, picking up whatever it was he was doing and moving to the opposite side of the room. If James and Peter have noticed, and of course they’ve noticed, they don’t ask why. The closest they’ve come to a discussion about it was when James walked in that first night after the fight, held up the Marauder’s Map and said, “Sirius is at the top of the astronomy tower.”

Remus had just nodded and said, “We had a bit of a fight.”

James just looked at him for a minute and nodded, and then put the map down and started getting ready for bed. That had been three days ago. They haven’t said anything about it since. 

Now, Remus sits in an armchair on one side of the common room, legs tucked up under him and chin in his hand. He isn’t really trying to disguise the fact that he’s watching Sirius, and no one is paying attention to him anyway. Sirius is leaning over the back of Marlene McKinnon’s chair and pointing out a move on the chess board in front of her. 

Something about this grates at Remus, but he can’t quite put a finger on why. As Sirius moves to pull up a chair beside Marlene’s, Remus can’t help but notice some subtle changes in Sirius’ movements that he hasn’t picked up on before. Instead of throwing himself into the chair and placing his elbows on the table like he used to, he sits down, Remus hates to say it, almost gracefully. He crosses one leg over his knee and tilts his head to the side in an expression of interest. Remus can’t quite figure it out. Something about Sirius is different. 

Over the next few days, Remus watches and picks up on plenty more subtle differences in Sirius since their fight. Apart from avoiding Remus at all costs, except when it’s unavoidable such as sleeping in the same room and eating at the same table (but never in the seat beside Remus), Sirius’ character starts to change. He develops a swagger in his step he’s never had before, and an arrogant tilt of his head that Remus hates. His voice takes on a sardonic drawl whenever he’s amused, and his smile is more calculated, his sentences more thought-out, and his laugh less frequent. 

Instead of a boyish sense of humour and constant activity, Sirius prefers to sit and talk, or flirt with the girls. He still laughs and jokes with James and helps Peter with homework or chess, and teases him when he gets things wrong, only now, everything about Sirius screams ‘it’s an act’. His peers are his audience, and Sirius is always on show. 

The girls have started to notice, of course. Not that they didn’t before, but now that Sirius is paying them attention, the skirts have grown shorter, the hair is flicked in his direction more often, and the laughs are a little higher and louder than necessary. Remus bets Sirius is loving it. 

Lying in bed one night after lights out, only a week before the next full moon, he works it out.

Sirius has grown up. 

 

Weeks drag on. Remus makes endless attempts to engage Sirius in conversation, or at least get him to sit on the same couch as him for more than five minutes. He’s shot down every time. He walks into Potions one day to find Sirius sitting on the other side of the room, beside a Ravenclaw girl with black hair and a nice smile, leaving Remus on his own at their bench. Remus is startled to find he is almost relieved. It will almost be easier to sit on his own than to sit with Sirius is stony silence. 

James and Peter offer to make room for him at their bench in the row behind, but Remus just smiles and says he will probably concentrate better this way, anyway. Remus overhears James as he corners Sirius in the library later that day. 

“Why’d you move seats in Potions?”

There is a short silence, and Remus wishes he can see what Sirius is doing rather than just listen from the other side of the bookshelf.

“The girls asked me to sit with them instead. Jennifer had an empty seat at her bench.”

His voice was a controlled drawl, and Remus feels like banging his head against the shelf because that’s not how Sirius is meant to speak, he’s meant to be telling jokes and showing off and causing trouble. He isn’t meant to be sitting with girls and lying to James (because Remus knows when Sirius is lying, and this is definitely one of those times) and ignoring Remus and damn near breaking his heart…

And that’s when Remus has to bite down on his lip and walk quickly and quietly out of the library, through the halls and up the stairs to the common room, bag banging against the back of his legs as he tries to fight the urge to run. The portrait hole opens as he mutters the password, and he steps through it and into the common room. He doesn’t pause to see if he has an audience, but high-tails it up the stairs and into his dorm and crawls onto his head, face down. 

As if the situation wasn’t complicated enough. 

He hears a gentle creak from the door as it opens, and he looks up at once to see, not Sirius as he’d foolishly hoped, but Peter standing in the doorway. He comes in hesitantly and Remus sits up properly, legs hanging off the side of the bed. Peter comes to sit next to him and Remus shoots him a shaky smile. Peter gives him one back.

“Are you… okay? I mean, you came through the common room before and you looked like you were about to cry or something… Not that you can’t cry, I mean, it’s tough being a werewolf and I know what you go through, and the full moon is in two days, and-”

But Remus cuts him off. “No, it’s not about that. I’m just… not feeling so good.”

Peter looks confused for a second, and then squints at Remus slightly, tilting his head to the side.

“Is this about Sirius? Are you worried Padfoot’s not going to come out with us on the full?”

Remus hesitates and then nods a bit. He hadn’t been worried about that before Peter mentioned it, but this would be the first full moon since their fight, and since Sirius had directed Snape down the passage way, right into Remus’ path. 

Peter nods carefully, even though Remus hasn’t actually said anything.

“I think he’ll come. He wouldn’t let you down like that, I mean, I know he’s been ignoring you and all, but this is more important, you know? He made a promise. It’s life or death.”  
Remus almost laughs at the irony of that sentence. It’d been life or death the last full moon, only not his life, not his death. He shrugs his shoulders in reply to Peter’s statement, and Peter sighs. Remus looks at him.

“What?” 

“Oh, nothing.” Peter looks a bit startled and Remus realises his tone might have been a bit rough. “It’s just not the same anymore, is it? With Sirius being all… different.”

“So you’ve noticed that too?”

“Of course. James has, a little, I think. Not as much. He doesn’t want to know, I think. He wants to help, but he’d rather not cause any more trouble. He’s Sirius’ best friend and all. Not that he’s not yours as well, it’s just… It’s Sirius.”

Remus doesn’t need him to explain any more. He knows what he means. And Peter has never been the best with words. Peter is looking at him again, wearing a look that he’s not used to seeing on Peter. Almost wise, understanding, and it’s a strange turnaround in roles. Remus is usually the one doing the comforting and sharing wisdom, and Peter is often the one receiving. This… this is different. Nice different.

“Thanks Peter.”

“For what?”

“Just… for listening. And asking if I’m okay.”

“Oh. You’re welcome. And Sirius will come round eventually. He’ll get bored of whatever game he’s playing, and it’ll be ok again.”

And Remus can’t tell Peter enough how much he hopes this is true. 

 

That night, Remus lies awake in bed for hours, thinking it over. Sirius has always been closest with James, everyone knows that. But with Remus, whether it's a hand left on his arm a little longer than necessary or a wink sent in his direction after a particularly lewd joke is made, or a bump of knees under the table during dinner, Sirius has always been more... open? Touchy-feely? Remus can't quite explain it, but it always felt like something more. Like a prelude to something better, although neither of them knew what it was yet. 

Something neither of them spoke about or acknowledged but it didn't mean it wasn't there. And Remus misses it. So, so much. 

He finds himself wondering, for a minute, whether he imagined it all, and whether there really is nothing special about their friendship. He turns over in bed and all at once remembers the night when they were fourteen and he'd woken to find Sirius sitting next to him. He'd climbed in with Remus after only a second's hesitation, and Remus hadn't dreamed that night. Not about anything bad, anyway. If a black-haired boy with a cheeky smile had run rampant though his dreams, setting things on fire and pulling on his sleeve, laughing and grinning a mile wide, Remus wasn't going to tell anyone. 

 

Sirius does come out with them that full moon, but he is quiet and sullen and turns into Padfoot almost straight away, leaving no opportunity for discussion. Not that Remus is really in the mood to talk anyway, as shudders wrack his body and the moon takes hold. He wakes the next morning in the sick bay, as usual, but this time there is no Sirius by his bed like there had so often been in months before. 

James comes by around lunchtime to bring him a book, and asks when Remus is getting out.

“This evening I expect. It’s only scratches and some bruising. The usual.”

James nods and picks the book back up from where it’s sitting on the bedside table and thumbs through it, clearly not paying any attention to the words therein. Remus raises his eyebrows and waits. Finally, James looks up and says, “Sirius is a git, okay, and he doesn’t know what’s right and wrong sometimes, and he is completely incapable of admitting he’s wrong, and I know he didn’t mean to let Snape into the tunnel, he does things without thinking sometimes, and you mean a lot to him and I don’t know what you said but it’s changed him and I don’t like it, and I really wish you two'd make up already so I can have my best friend back.”

Remus just stares. That was a lot of information to take in in thirty seconds. James is looking at him almost balefully, eyes wide behind his glasses, and suddenly Remus doesn’t know why he is always expected to fix things. He’s the one lying in the hospital bed in agony (well, sort of). Why can’t someone else fix things for a change? But then he sees a figure in the doorway, and he meets Sirius’ gaze as he looks into the room. Remus gives him a small smile and lifts a hand, and Sirius visibly relaxes, shoots a small, sad smile back, and then ducks his head and slips back into the corridor. 

James is biting his lip as his eyes return from the doorway to meet Remus’. “I want the real Sirius back, Moony. He’s much nicer than that one.”

Remus can’t help but agree. He just doesn’t see how anything he can do can help.

 

The opportunity presents itself the next evening. Remus is sitting with his back against the armrest of the couch, feet dangling off the edge of the cushions, when James comes in and drops the Marauder's Map in his lap.

"What do you want me to do with this?" Remus asks, as James looks at him expectantly.

"Well, opening it might be a start," is James' sarcastic response.

Remus raises his eyebrows and opens the map without comment, pressing the tip of his wand to the paper and muttering, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

The familiar lines of the map appear, along with the dozens of names of students dotted around the castle. Remus looks back up at James, awaiting instruction. James points with a finger to the astronomy tower, about halfway up, where a single name is hovering. Sirius Black.

Remus' gaze sticks on the name, and James sighs impatiently. "Are you just going to look at it, or are you going to go and talk to him?"

Eyes snapping back up to meet James, Remus opens his mouth to protest but James is already shoving his invisibility cloak into his arms and pulling him up off the couch. 

"No, you're going. Fix this, Moony, okay? I don't care if you have to hex him to keep him in the same place long enough to talk to him, just do it."

Remus thinks wryly that it might actually come to that. He doesn't, however, protest as James propels him out of the common room and into the corridor towards the flight of stairs. He shoots a small smile over his shoulder at James who is watching him go, and making small shooing motions with his hands. Rolling his eyes, Remus shoos. 

 

The astronomy tower is cold at the best of times, but it's even cooler at night with no sun to filter through the tiny windows and no warmth to penetrate the unforgiving stone walls. Sirius, according to the map, is halfway up it. Remus pauses on the first stair to wrap the invisibility cloak around himself and take a last look at the map. Sirius hasn't moved. He tucks the map into his pocket and starts up the stairs, careful to make as little sound as possible on the stone steps. 

He hears Sirius before he sees him. A series of short sharp cracks, and then a whistle meet Remus' ears. He continues up the next 10 steps of the spiral staircase to see Sirius sitting sideways on a step, back against the wall, fireworks shooting out the tip of his wand. Granted, the fireworks aren't very spectacular, but they're all an angry red colour that fizzle out with a sinister sizzle almost as soon as they leave the wand.

Remus stares, enthralled, as a firework leaves the end of the wand and shoots straight up, exploding into what look like shards of glass that fizzle away seconds later. He hardly dares to breathe for fear of Sirius hearing, and he stays, stock-still on the step, not knowing exactly how to do this. As it turns out, he doesn't have to do anything.

The fireworks stop abruptly and Sirius says, "I know you're there, James. Or is it Peter this time?" 

Remus holds his breath, and then Sirius makes to get up. 

"Wait, no, it's me," Remus replies in a rush, pulling off the cloak. 

Sirius' expression is one of surprise, and Remus can almost see him mentally calculating how to get out of there as quickly as possible. Remus moves forward and sits on the step down from Sirius, legs bent up at the knee, effectively blocking the escape. Sirius could easily step over them, of course, but Remus likes to think of it as a type of metaphorical barrier. Or something.

Sirius sits back with a sigh and leans his head back against the wall.

"What do you want, Remus?"

Remus is startled at just how cold the sentence comes out. Sirius sounds both bored and irritated at once, and Remus is thrown off for a second.

"I... uh, James gave me the map. He said to... to find you, I guess. And to make things right."

Sirius snorts. "Make things right? Good one James. What is there to make right? I don't see there's anything wrong."

Remus just stares. "How can you not see there's anything wrong? Sirius, you've been avoiding me for weeks, you never willingly stay in the same room as me for more than 2 minutes at a time, you haven't had a laugh with James for almost as long, and I hate it. We hate it. Come back, Pads."

Sirius is just looking at Remus with a small, sad smile on his face. "Look, Moony," and for some reason Remus' breath catches at the use of the nickname, "there's nothing wrong. I've just... some things don't last forever. You're a smart person, you know that."

That doesn't seem like a real answer to Remus at all, and he makes a frustrated noise and slams his head back against the wall. Which hurts. Quite a lot. Putting a hand up to rub the back of his head, Remus almost misses the small huff of laughter that escapes Sirius' mouth. Almost. Looking over, he can see Sirius control his features into the mask he's been wearing, and Remus feels glad. Glad that he broke the stony silence that's played across Sirius' face for too long. 

Remus tries again. "When I said you were just like your parents, I was lying. You aren't. You are nothing like them, Sirius. Well okay, a little, but only the good bits. The determination, the intelligence, the ability to get the attention of a whole room just by holding up a hand."

Sirius raises an eyebrow and doesn't speak, so Remus goes on.

"You weren't like them, Sirius. But now, well, you're getting closer. I don't like it, neither does James. You've shut us out and we don't know how to help you anymore."

"I don't need your help," Sirius snaps.

"Are you sure?" Remus counters.

"Well if you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right? Aren't you happy? You seemed so sure I was like them a week ago. And what's so wrong with being like my parents anyway? They're rich, powerful purebloods with a trust fund the size of Hogwarts, and everyone knows the name 'Black', don't they?" Sirius' mouth curls up in a sneer, as if daring Remus to question it.  
Remus does. "Yeah, they're all that, and more. But you hate them, Sirius. You don't want to be like that. I know you, and I know you don't."

Sirius moves to get up then, and Remus leans forward, grabbing his sleeve. 

"Sirius, stop. Talk to me, I'm your friend!"

"Are you?"

Those two words land on Remus' chest like a ton of bricks. "Yes, Sirius. I'll always be your friend."

The words come out slightly strangled, and Sirius turns his head to look at him. 

Then, he does something Remus defintely doesn't expect. He takes a deep breath and then crushes his mouth against Remus', kissing him angrily, as though he can make Remus understand if he can just get their mouths to fit perfectly together. He puts his argument into the kiss, and Remus argues back. It's messy and wonderful, and Remus' head is slammed back against the stone wall a second time, but this time he doesn't care. 

Then, all at once, the warmth and taste of Sirius' mouth is taken away from Remus and he opens his eyes to see him, hair tousled, eyes wide, an expression of pure fright on his face. He stumbles backwards on the step and Remus is on his feet in an instant, grabbing Sirius' arm to steady him. Sirius yanks his arm free and turns to flee, but Remus is too quick, grabbing hold of his arm again.

"Sirius!”

Sirius turns back to face him. He's standing on the step below Remus now, bringing him to the same height. His face is bright red and his eyes are still panicked. He reminds Remus of James caught in the headlights of some on-coming vehicle. A startled deer, caught in the glow. 

"I don't need your pity, or your comfort, or anything else you're offering! Leave me alone!" Sirius is yelling, voice echoing around the in the small space of the tower, up and down the flight of stairs, coming back to hit Remus again and again. Sirius isn't done.

"Every time I'm around you I screw something up and I can't do this, okay? I can't do any of this, and you don't understand, none of you understand, why won't you all just leave me alone? I can't, Remus! So would you let go of my arm!" 

The last bit is almost screamed, Sirius' voice high pitched and panicked. He takes another step down, but Remus still doesn't let go. He can feel tears welling up in his own eyes and he stares into Sirius', stares down at the boy with the black hair and the grey eyes who's so angry and confused, and it's downright heartbreaking to look at, and he does the only thing he can think of to get him to stay.

He steps down a step so he's level with Sirius again, wraps his arms around the other boys' waist, presses his face into his neck and whispers, "Just don't go, okay?"

And Sirius doesn't.

They stand like that for what seems like hours, but was probably only a few minutes. Sirius is openly sobbing now, tears soaking the shoulder on Remus' jersey, but he doesn't care. He holds onto Sirius until the tears stop and his shoulders cease to shake, and finally Sirius whispers, "I'm not leaving."

Remus doesn't want to pull away, but eventually he does. When Sirius raises his head, his eyes are puffy and red and his hair is messy, and Remus thinks he's possibly never looked more gorgeous. He reaches a hand out and smoothes down an errant hair on Sirius' forehead, and Sirius catches his hand and huffs out a small laugh. Remus smiles.

"Do you want to sit here for a while or head back to the common room? I know a charm that gets rid of puffy eyes."

Sirius bites back a smile. "Of course you do. You have a charm for everything."

 

After successfully charming away any trace of the tears, Remus stands and offers a hand to Sirius. "Coming back to the common room, then?"

"Yeah," is Sirius' answer, and he takes Remus' hand and gets to his feet. He doesn't let go of Remus' hand. As they climb in through the portrait hole into the common room, a few students look up. There are a few raised eyebrows, a couple of whispered, ‘knew it's, and James rolls his eyes as Peter mutters, "You owe me five galleons."

Sirius walks a step behind Remus as they cross the room, fingers still entwined. James moves over on the couch and they sit down, and the group is silent for a few seconds. James is the first to speak. 

"Good to have you back, Padfoot."

"Shut up, James."

 

They're seventeen and in their final year at Hogwarts, and the four sit around on the couches in front of the fire. The common room still feels like the safest and most comfortable place in the world. James has a cup of cocoa in his hands and Peter is counting the shadows on the ceiling. Sirius and Remus are sprawled on a couch of their own, Sirius laying the length of the couch with Remus curled up in the bend of his knees, playing with the hem of Sirius' jersey with one hand, the other linked with Sirius'. They're talking quietly about everything and nothing in particular. It's a quarter to twelve, and it's the night before James' eighteenth birthday.

James puts down his cocoa and rotates the cup once, the picks it up, takes a sip, then repeats the process, fidgeting and chewing his lip. Some things never change, thinks Sirius.  
They're all there when the clock strikes twelve and James grins and puts down his mug, stretching his arms up over his head. Peter reaches out a hand to slap him on the shoulder, and Remus writes 'Happy Birthday James' in the air with his wand, and they watch as it glows brightly before disappearing into a wisp of smoke. Sirius grins. "You're getting old, James."

A creak from the door to the dormitories makes them all look up, and a slightly rumpled Lily Evans stands in the door way, wrapped in a dressing-gown. James leaps up and crosses the room. Lily smiles. "Happy birthday."

James kisses her and wraps his arms around her waist, pressing another kiss to her temple. "Thanks, Lily."

Sirius smiles to himself and looks around. Remus is looking up at him, a small smile on his face, and he gives his hand a squeeze. Peter is grinning at them both, motioning to the doorway where James and Lily are still locked in their embrace. 

And Sirius knows he'll remember this moment forever.


End file.
